Journey's Respite
by Bastet
Summary: **This is a parody!!!** Janeway is offered a chance to get the crew home. But will she be willing to pay the price?


[Author's note: I started this story at the beginning of Season 7; I had no idea how close to the truth it would come. However, I only started it then. The majority was written after I saw the real series finale. I have tried to keep the real story from influencing my own.]  
  
Star Trek: Voyager  
Journey's Respite  
  
It was an unremarkable day on the bridge of the starship Voyager. Kim was playing Tetris(c) at his station and Paris was dozing, snoring lightly, though unnoticed by Janeway or Chakotay, who were locked in a ruthless game of tic-tac-toe. Tuvok, silent as ever, was doing whatever it is that he does when there is no tactical or security emergency.  
  
A bleep from Kim's console brought them all back to the present. "Captain!" he announced. "We're being hailed."  
  
"On screen."  
  
The viewscreen lit up to show two people kissing passionately. "Sorry, captain," Kim muttered, embarrassed that his secret penchant for soap operas was exposed. "Wrong channel." He quickly pressed a button, changing the picture. Now the screen was lit up with the face of the Borg queen! A collective gasp arose from the bridge crew.  
  
"Hello, Queenie." Janeway spat the name out like a bad-tasting Talaxian dessert.  
  
"Hello, Janeway," the Queen replied, her voice dripping with disdain. "Although I don't usually interact with individuals, except to assimilate them, for you, I am making an exception."  
  
"I'm touched," Janeway muttered.  
  
"And so you should be. I have a proposition to make. I have something you want, and you have something I want. It would make an awful lot of sense to trade."   
  
"What could you possibly have that I could want?" As she said it, though, Janway's face turned ashen. "Not... you wouldn't... you aren't... you'll trade us transwarp technology?!"  
  
The Queen smirked. "That's right, Janeway. I'll transwarp you back to that pathetic little planet you call home. Why anyone would want to live there is beyond me, but I guess we all have our little quirks."  
  
Janeway's eyes narrowed. "You've offered us the chance of a lifetime, and you know it. What do we have that you want? Seven of Nine? Because if you want her, she's yours. Our ratings are back up, so we don't really need her any more, and, truth be told, I was getting a little sick of her."  
  
The Queen shook her head. "No, Janeway. You can keep that hoochie-mama Barbie-doll for yourself. The person I really want is Icheb."  
  
"Icheb!? You are offering us the chance of a lifetime for Icheb?! If I'd known you wanted him, you could have just asked. You're doing us a favor by getting rid of him! Wait a minute... why is that wimpy, nerdy, Wesly Crusher wannabe suddenly so important?"  
  
"Because..." the Queen faltered for a minute, and Janeway though she could sense a hint of emotion under the cool Borg mask. "Because I want him. That's all. Now, do we have a deal, or what?"  
  
Janeway thought it over for a moment (approximately 3.648122 seconds, Tuvok later told them), and then nodded her head. "Fine. I think we're getting the better end of the deal, but I won't argue. Let me prepare the crew, and we can rendez-vous to make the switch."  
  
=/\= =/\= =/\=  
  
A few moments later, Janeway had the senior staff assembled in the conference room. She explained the situation, and then asked for input.  
  
Chakotay raised his hand. "Captain," he began, "this reminds me of a story my great-grandfather used to tell me."  
  
Janeway nodded. "I'm sure it does, and I'm sure you're itching to share it, but I don't have time right now. Maybe later. Anyone else?"  
  
Suddenly, without warning, Seven jumped out of her chair. Her face was livid with rage. "Captain!" she shouted. "How can you do this? Seven years ago you made the choice that 150 people were going to stay in the delta quadrant so that you could save some messed up civilization. You never gave your crew the option of going home. Many of them have died out here, because of your choices. I know that you still feel guilty about deciding for them. Yet, you did the same thing with me, and now you are doing the same thing with Icheb. You never gave us a choice! I can't stand idly by while you ruin this man's life; I won't!"  
  
"I appreciate your input, Seven. Anyone else?"  
  
"No!" Seven screamed. "You can't do this! You can't send Icheb away! I'm in love with him! I want to have his babies! No! No! NO!!" Finally Janeway nodded in Tuvok's direction, and he dragged the kicking, screaming Borg out of the room. She then proclaimed the meeting adjourned.  
  
=/\= =/\= =/\=  
  
Tuvok entered Janeway's Ready Room to find the captain staring at a cup of coffee, frowning. "I hadn't even considered this situation," she admitted. "I always knew he had a thing for her, but mutual love? I feel bad about separating them."  
  
Tuvok shook his head. "Do not. What Seven interprets as love is merely a minor infatuation. She will get over it."  
  
"How can you say that? I didn't see you mind-melding her."  
  
"Because she already in love - true love, not infatuation - with another man."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Is it not, obvious, Captain? Seven of Nine is in love with me. And who, really, could blame her? I mean, what woman can resist a tall, sexy Vulcan like myself?"  
  
"I think I've done okay."  
  
"Ha. You would say that. But I've seen the way you look at me sometimes. I know how you really feel. I don't need to mind-meld with you to know."  
  
"That's great, Tuvok, but you're the same age as my grandfather, and I prefer younger guys. But, getting back to the business at hand, you think I should accept the Queen's deal?" 


End file.
